WC: 310
Skye had read Slade's mind perfectly. He supposed that he had made it blatantly obvious that he was concerned, and was thankful for the reassurance that nothing was wrong. After the order was given, he tilted his nose to the air and took in a deep sniff. The smell of caribou was in the air, something it took him a moment to recognize as it wasn't overly familiar to him. He was used to hunting mice, squirrels, and other rodents that weren't nearly this big or dangerous. He tried to shove the thought of a small, trampled coyote pelt lying on a hoof-printed ground, and hoping that he wouldn't be so skittish on the upcoming hunt Skye had described.
He hardly noticed the entrance of another packmate, and he jumped at her voice. He recognized the scent a moment before he saw Sankara enter the scene, who he greeted with a small nod. "Morning, Sankara." He just hoped that they were on good terms; the last time he had seen her it was during the snowstorm in Mars's house, where he had given her an apology for his actions when they had met. He was going to take the liberty of assuming that she wasn't still holding a grudge, if she ever had in the first place.
Slade turned quickly to look into the forest. There was still no sign of... anybody. There was no way that three canines could take down a caribou alone, especially with a very inexperienced coyote in the crowd. He might not turn out to be such a liability in the hunt if there were others there to support each other. He would probably end up fading into the crowd, maybe managing to get in a bite here and there, but otherwise being the inexperienced caribou hunter he was he wouldn't get much else done.